


Rub me 'til my ego is raw

by Pilandok



Series: You fell asleep, then the silence grew [1]
Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Light Angst, Smut, bastardization of a very sweet scene between jen and judy sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilandok/pseuds/Pilandok
Summary: Maybe Jen hoped that Judy saw her and Ben kissing. Maybe that makes her an asshole. But Jen doesn’t want to hate herself that night, she just wants to figure something out.Alternate version of the events at the end of 2x07 and the start of 2x08, from the tail-end of the vigil to before the morning after.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Series: You fell asleep, then the silence grew [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958914
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	Rub me 'til my ego is raw

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so yeah this was supposed to be a mutual cuckolding fetish thing but as per usual, it got away from me. Still, please enjoy. 
> 
> Oh and this has a very different vibe from my last fic, don't be too disappointed.

It’s not too bad, Jen thinks, kissing Ben. She likes him. He’s a goofy guy and oddly enough, that has always seem to be her type. Ted was the same, the things he used to do for her back in New York were cheesy at best and toe-curlingly _touristy_ at worst. But an earnest smile can always worm itself into her heart, right through the chinks of her tough-girl exterior. She had thought then that he would be a good father, and she was right about that.

Ted was a dreamer, probably more than she was, although they were equally artistic, music naturally in-tune with their body. The open-hearted musician and his head-strong dancer. There was a time that she had imagined it to be an idealistic love, maybe some financial struggles as they try to _make it,_ but no complication that can’t be romanticized. Oh how painfully she was wrong about that.

That’s why when she tasted the alcohol in Ben’s mouth, she had to put an end to it. It tastes like a complication, a promise of depth and a history she doesn’t need to know. She can’t be the recipient to that, not in the middle of all this. She pushes him off gently, trying to be as kind as possible because he doesn’t deserve any less, especially not from her.

She plans to look for Judy and leave together as she had promised and when she turns to look for her, she spots her immediately. Judy’s back was to them, she seems to be talking to Perez. Jen doesn’t know why, but she has the feeling that Judy had seen them, her and Ben and the kiss.

Jen thinks, retroactively, maybe she invents it, that she felt a tingle on her spine when Ben’s lips was on hers. Not from a flutter of any sorts, but from the feeling of something burning at the back of her head. Like she was being watched. Maybe. Maybe that’s why she stays beside him— no more kissing, but she does lay her head on his shoulder.

She feels it in her spine again. Maybe she’s imagining it. But she wishes Judy is looking at her right now. Doesn’t know why exactly, but she’s sure her reasons aren’t very nice. She hates it, that there’s a cruelty that sits inside of her, sometimes turning on like a switch. It feels like she has to constantly tamp it down, hold it carefully, lest it rears its ugly head. It’s one thing to be angry, so frustrated by a world that won’t do better. But sometimes she just feels mean. She thinks she’s being mean to Ben right now, her earlier mindfulness cast aside.

Later, after excusing herself from Ben, she lingers on the beach. Judy had already gone home and she spends some time circling the sand, watching the spectacle of mourning. She’s exhausted her guilt for the day, it’s been replaced by an impassiveness that frightens her sometimes. She sees pictures of the man she killed and it doesn’t shake her, wondering where is that surge of emotions that compelled her to arrange the vigil in the first place.

Sometimes she thinks Ted is right about her. Maybe Steve is.

But tonight, she doesn’t want to hate herself. She wants to figure something out.

She knows she’s making Judy wait at home. Leaving early is a statement, considering all the things she would do for Jen, everything she can tolerate. On the drive home, she meanders about on the streets. She doesn’t know what she wants Judy to imagine, if she’s even seen what Jen wanted her to see (but Jen knows that she did, she’s _sure_.)

Arriving home, Judy greets her, uncharacteristically cold. Maybe a flare of anger. Something begins to bubble on the surface of Jen’s skin. She’s not in denial, knows that it’s a form of arousal.

“You’re still drinking,” Jen says, an eyebrow raised.

“WWJD,” Judy slurs, swirling the wine glass. Before Jen could say anything, she rushes, “I saw you with Ben.” She says it in a tone that was like a slight perversion of her usual teasing. Judy stands, leaving the wine glass on the table, and saunters clumsily to where Jen is and leans her bodyweight against her. Her hands crawl up Jen’s torso, reaching for the lapels of the black jacket.

_I know._

“What?” Jen asks, as if Judy isn’t gripping fistfuls of the hard evidence.

Judy’s eyes darken and she pulls harder at the fabric so that Jen has to tip her head down. She remembers the tingle on the back of her neck, compares it to the friction of the jacket. Sometimes she doesn’t know what game they’re playing at, but they play it so well.

“Take it off,” Judy orders casually, it might have been accompanied by a shrug.

Jen considers not doing it, to wait for Judy to take it off herself, but she decides to be obedient. She shrugs it off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor.

Judy, drunk as she is, doesn’t let go soon enough and gets dragged by gravity, too, falling into Jen. She giggles, latching herself onto the woman, wrapping both her arms around Jen’s neck. Jen holds her by the shoulders.

“Okay, you know what? I’m pretty sure you’re on the dark side of drunk right now,” Jen tells her.

“I think I’m on the dark side of the truth,” Judy says as seriously as she can. Then she rests her head on Jen’s shoulder.

“Okay, I don’t know what that means.”

“Think about it,” Judy whispers conspiratorially, turning her head slightly to press her lips onto skin. Jen can feel her smirk against the base of her neck.

Jen feels like she’s getting whiplash from Judy’s fluctuating mood. She doesn’t know if this is what she had wanted, if this is what she had imagined at the beach.

“I can’t,” Jen breathes, “you’re not making any sense.”

“You smell like him,” Judy says in a low voice. There it is again, the hint of anger. Jen wonders if Judy actually does smell it or if it’s just something that she’s imagining. Either that or she’s bluffing.

Suddenly, she feels a slick tongue trail the skin of her neck, following an invisible vein to the back of Jen’s ear.

“Yeah, we hung out for a while,” Jen says, trying to keep her tone even. Probably a useless precaution as Judy definitely felt her shudder from the tongue on her ear.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Judy tells her, then nibbles on the skin along Jen’s hairline. “I saw you kissing.” 

Jen breathes, “I know.”

Judy pulls away, unlatches herself from Jen and steps back. She looks at Jen, chewing on her lower lip, like she’s stopping a smile. A complete fucking mystery sometimes.

“Seems unfair. To me, I mean,” she says in a little sing-song voice, “about Michelle.”

Jen shrugs, “He kissed me. It didn’t mean anything.”

After a beat, Judy breaks out into loud giggles. Jen wonders what category of drunk does this qualify in, maybe tonight’s not the night to figure anything out. Jen sighs, ready to begin the process of escorting Judy into the guest house. But as soon as she grabs a hold of Judy’s hand, Judy lifts their intertwined fingers and twirls herself once before crashing into Jen, her back against Jen’s front. Jen tries to catch Judy again except this time, Judy intercepts her hands so she can pull them onto either side of her thighs, spreading her fingers so Jen’s palms lie flat on her skin, just below the hemline of her dress.

“Well that’s too bad,” Judy says and turns her head to look at Jen, lifting one hand to caress her face, “you guys would’ve made a really good couple.”

Judy smashes their lips together, pulling Jen into a hard kiss. She responds emphatically, moaning at the contact, her nails digging into the skin of Judy’s thighs. She then drags her hands up Judy’s ass, squeezing them tightly under the dress before hooking her thumbs on the waistband of her underwear. Judy grinds against her in encouragement. _Fuck_.

“It could’ve worked out between you two,” Judy continues when she breaks away from the kiss, sounding surprisingly cavalier if you can ignore the tense breathing. Jen’s jaw clenches; it’s always been easy for Judy to get under her skin, she just didn’t think Judy _knew_ that. “Imagine if we were in a normal world.”

Jen forgoes the underwear, leaving it in its place, opting instead to turn Judy around so she can pull her legs up to wrap around her waist. Judy all but jumps onto Jen, snaking her arms around her neck and kissing her ferociously. Jen carries her to the short side of the table, and avoiding breakables, she drops Judy in a huff.

“No it wouldn’t have,” Jen punctuates with a sharp bite onto Judy’s neck. She begins sucking at the skin aggressively, her hands reaching between them to cup Judy’s breasts over her dress.

“Why not?” Judy gasps, Jen has taken a nipple between her fingers. She pushes her off lightly so that Jen can watch her draw her legs up against herself, widening the distance between her knees. Judy’s dress pools at her stomach and Jen can see the obscene stain on Judy’s underwear.

“We don’t live in a normal world anymore.”

“Why not?” Judy repeats, breathier under Jen’s gaze, full of want, but Jen can hear her smile.

_That little shit._

Jen doesn’t try to be delicate anymore. She reaches between Judy’s legs to pull off her panties, making it a point to graze her center as she does so, to which she hears Judy moan. She shouldn’t be surprised at how wet Judy is, but the contact still makes her shudder. The fabric doesn’t even make it past both legs, the underwear getting caught on Judy’s right and it’s left to hang limply at the line of her ankle boots. Jen grabs that leg by the calf and rests it on her shoulder, opening Judy up completely for her.

“Because he’s Steve’s brother,” Jen seethes. Shit, propriety really is out of the window. Judy falters for a second and Jen’s fingers begin to run hard circles against her swollen clit. “You’re dripping.”

Judy leans back on her elbows, moans in high staccatos. She opens up her throat and Jen can see the angry bite mark she left on Judy’s neck, bright red.

“Yeah,” Judy pants, “his _sweet_ brother. Why not, Jen?”

_Oh Jesus Christ_. She shoves three fingers inside Judy at once, relishing the involuntary jerk of Judy’s hips, the way she can feel her leg shake.

“Give it a rest,” she answers. Like they’re having a normal conversation, like Jen isn’t pumping her fingers in and out of Judy, looking for the angle that would hit her just right.

“Crazier things— aaaah!” _Found it._ “— have happened.”

Jen laughs out loud. She’s three knuckles deep inside her best friend and she’s talking about getting her together with her ex-fiancé’s twin, the ex-fiancé Jen murdered. Literally nothing’s crazier than this.

“Look,” she says, voice in a warning so Judy snaps her head up to attention, “I don’t want _Ben_.”

And she swears, she feels Judy _clench._

“Yeah?” Judy pushes on the table behind her and starts grinding against Jen’s hand. Maybe harder than necessary, Jen speculates she’s putting on a show for her. And _oh god_ it’s working _._ Jen feels a little delirious where she stands, watching beads of sweat slide from Judy’s forehead, seeing her muscles tense, and feeling her hot and wet around her fingers.

Jen felt like a sociopath the whole day at the vigil, literally fucking insane. But god, does Judy know how to match her on that scale. On the way home she didn’t even know which of her feelings are genuine, but now everything feels so real and visceral.

“I don’t want anyone,” Jen says, almost faltering on that last syllable. Judy grins like she knows something that Jen doesn’t so she curls her fingers inside her.

“Fuck, _Jen_ ,” Judy looks like she’s about to explode.

“I’m done with all that.”

Jen doesn’t need to hear whatever smart-ass response Judy has. Sometimes it feels like she’s playing with fire, whenever the atmosphere around her and Judy get too tense, like she might admit to something she doesn’t even know yet.

Also, the volume situation is getting a little out of control and she needs to deal with that.

After a quick sweep of her surroundings, without thinking too much of it, Jen reaches over her left to grab Judy’s silk, white panties that was still hanging on the ankle resting on Jen’s shoulder. She rolls it into a ball and stuffs it inside Judy’s mouth to muffle her sounds.

Jen didn’t even consider what it would look like but oh god, _the visual_.

Judy’s eyes widen and she makes a choking noise against the fabric. She arches her back one more time before coming hard onto Jen’s hand. She can feel Judy spasming around her fingers. She still has to reach over and cover Judy’s mouth because she was being so damn _loud_.

Jen hasn’t been touched but she already feels like she’s on the very edge of her own orgasm. She wonders if she could just borrow one of Judy’s limbs to grind against, it would probably only take her a few seconds.

Instead, she keeps her hand moving inside of Judy.

When Judy realizes that Jen intends to keep going, she begins squirming wildly, animalistic noises coming out of her muffled mouth. She sounds like she wants to say something. It takes Judy a few seconds to realize she can remove the panties herself. Jen stops her, using her free hand to grab Judy’s arm, pulling her whole body up flush against her.

Jen presses her lips against Judy’s ear.

“Baby, it’s okay, let me do this for you,” Jen whispers and she can hear Judy moaning at Jen still moving inside of her. “Let me make you come again, okay? I want to see you come.”

Judy grips Jen’s shoulders, leaning back so she can nod. A corner of the underwear threatens to fall out of her mouth but Judy bites down so it won’t, like a good girl.

_Fuck_ , this is the best way she’s ever shut Judy up.

Jen rewards her enthusiastically, having no interest in prolonging this for Judy, eager to watch her unravel again. She sets a harsh pace, the new angle makes Judy feel tighter around her fingers. Judy’s arms fall limp to her side, her energy being drawn out to her impending orgasm. She rests her head on Jen’s shoulder and Jen can hear Judy saying something like a chant, a mantra repeated. Jen imagines for a moment that it’s her name.

It’s on the initial wave of Judy’s second climax that Jen hears familiar, angry footsteps descending the stairs. _Charlie._

In a panic, she immediately pulls her fingers out of Judy, rips the panties out of her mouth, and drags her to her feet to fix her dress. By the time Charlie is coming up to view, Jen is frantically whispering to Judy who’s completely sagging against her body, only held up by a firm arm on her back.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, Jude. I really wanted to do that delicately—“

“Why did you have Steve Woods’ car?”

_Shit._

—

“Well that sobered me up a little,” Judy says after Charlie has left the kitchen.

“No kidding,” Jen breathes, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her head on her palms. “Oh my god, I’m gaslighting my own kid. I’m lying to him. I’m lying to everyone all the time.”

Judy grabs her forearms to pull her up, to make Jen look at her.

“It’s okay, we’re in this together,” Judy reassures her, sliding her hands down Jen’s arm to intertwine their fingers. “You’re not lying to me.”

Except that she is. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

“Judy,” she says in a soft voice and Judy looks at her like she hung the fucking moon. She’s always had a particularly impressive post-coital glow. “If you want to be with Michelle, I can’t stand in your way.”

Judy tilts her head slightly to the side, looking confused.

“Jen—“

“I want you to have whatever you want, okay?” And before Judy says anything else, “Let’s win her back, call now. Oh! Or I can drive you to her house. We can bring a fucking boom box like in _Say Anything_ or is that played out?”

Judy drops their hands and stares at Jen for a long time. Jen holds her breath, wonders if she’s being cruel or not.

Then Judy nods slowly.

—

Jen drives away as soon as Michelle opens the door. Judy had given her an earnest smile before leaving the car. It worms its way into her heart.

A few streets from her house, she remembers that she still has Judy’s panties in her back pocket from when she stuffed it in there in haste. She realizes that Judy showed up to Michelle’s doorstep slightly disoriented and in full commando. Michelle would probably think that it’s part of the surprise.

Jen could smirk, could be smug at Michelle’s cluelessness. That she may have Judy for the rest of the night but she was _there first_.

But she doesn’t. Because Judy’s not around. She doesn’t have to pretend that it doesn’t hurt a little.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a question, how to write a Jen/Judy fic where they aren't sociopathic?? Also, who's even getting cuckolded here??? 
> 
> Thank you for reading, would love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Title is from Marika Hackman's "the one".
> 
> (Also, I have a twitter now, @aprilopenmybill although fair warning: I have no filter and have a massive ego.)


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